Survival Instincts
by jsrsuperstar
Summary: After the war, Draco loses everything. Dean Thomas is the only one willing to help him, even though he has demons of his own to battle. How will he help Draco face his own?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Dear readers! This is another Dean/Draco story. I hope you enjoy.**

**Summary: When Draco loses everything, how will he cope with Dean Thomas as his sole supporter?**

Dean Thomas knew what it felt like to have nothing. He knew what it felt like to be resented by people that were supposed to love you. Dean Thomas knew what it felt like to have to live independently without help from anyone because they didn't understand; they only judged and shook their heads in shame. He knew what it felt like to be written off and treated like he was less than a human being.

He had practice. So now in his 19th year of life he knew how to hide his emotions behind fake smiles; he had the laugh lines to prove that others thought he was happy. After the grueling Battle of Hogwarts while the tears streamed down the faces of students and faculty alike, Dean had a smile on his face. Most people chalked it up to the old adage: You smile to keep from crying. He knew how to speak so that no one could hear the hurt that would normally be laced behind every word. He learned how to be sociable enough so that no one would ask questions that he wasn't ready to answer. If he was too much of a recluse, someone might begin to see the cracks that made up the complex being that he had worked so hard to construct. So once every other week he had lunch with Seamus. Every Friday he would paint with Luna. Once a month he would meet up with George and Angelina to discuss quidditch.

If Dean Thomas believed in fate, he would say that it was fate the day he ran into Draco Malfoy on the streets Diagon Alley. It was a gloomy looking fall day. The usual buzz that accompanied the homely area sounded within his ears. Malfoy was standing on the outside of Flourish and Botts, not facing toward the store, but away from it. His robes were unnecessarily thick for this time of year. His blond head was directed toward the ground, as if trying to remain unidentifiable. Dean was approaching the figure that was Draco from behind. A portly witch walking past Draco seemed to pump shoulders with him.

"Watch it! These things are expensive!" She shrieked

"My apologies, Madam." The woman stared hard into the face of the man.

"Why, if it isn't Draco Malfoy? I thought they would've locked you up under Azkaban by now." Her loud exclamations caused fellow wizards and witches to pay closer attention to the scene unfolding before their eyes. A small crowd began to form. Draco turned and hurriedly walked in the other direction.

"Yeah, that's it, run along Malfoy. Your family got what they deserved. How does it feel not having anything! Your life is destroyed just like how your damned father destroyed mine! I hope the guards let the dementors spend extra time with Cissy and Luc!" The crowd escalated the volume of their murmurs, most in agreement with the witch.

Dean Thomas followed quickly in the direction in which Malfoy had fled.

He only had to travel a short distance when he came upon Malfoy who was lighting a muggle cigarette with his head down.

"You know those aren't good for you."

"Does it look like I give a shit right now?"

"Malfoy, I know you're going through a rough time-" Draco looked into the eyes of Dean Thomas and gave his trademark snort.

"You don't know shit Thomas. No one does."

"About what that woman said back there, while some of it may have been true…"

"Rubbish, all of them. It was nothing. I'm fine."

"I didn't ask how you were, which means you're dwelling on it." There was a brief silence on Draco's part. He was feeling so many different emotions and he didn't need Dean Thomas adding on to the mess that was his life.

"You think you're so clever. I'd appreciate it if you just left."

"I just want to make sure that you're okay. You look awful. You're just hitting a rough patch in your life. It will get better."

"Obviously you're not going to leave, so I will." Draco took off down the narrow street, huffing in annoyance. Dean just then noticed that Draco was no longer within arms reach so he quickly jogged in the direction that Draco had taken off into. Because of the long legs that he was blessed with, he reached Draco within seconds.

"Look, I'm sorry. Seamus used to tell me I should be more sensitive to people's feelings. Some people say I can kind of be a little bit of an asshole…I'm really bad at comforting people."

"Who said I needed or wanted your comfort?"

"Draco, I don't think you should go through all of this shit by yourself."

"Oh, so you think you're a viable option for a support system?"

"I don't see anyone else willing to assist you. I heard Blaise and Pansy ran off to Italy the second the war was over, vowing never to step foot around here again. Crabbe and Goyle are both dead. Theo is still only God knows where."

"Well, I don't need anyone. I'll be just fine, thank you. Now if you'll please excuse me." Draco turned on his heel and straightened his posture and began to walk away from Dean again.

"Draco, seriously. I want to help you."

"Dean, seriously I don't need it."

"You say that now, but-"

"Why Dean? Why? Why are you so hell-bent on worrying over me? I'm an adult and am very capable of taking care of myself."

"I'll be very straight-forward with you."

"Please."

"Well…you remind me of myself."

"What the bloody hell? How so? Besides the obvious reasons that would possibly be offensive if I further elaborated. I'm actually rather amused." Dean let out a deep chuckle, glad to see a bit of the old Draco resurface.

"I really don't want to talk about all of this here…"

"You know what, Thomas, I'll see you around. As a matter of fact, no I won't. Have a good life." Dean watched as Draco successfully retreated. He contemplated just following and forcing Draco to let him in, but he figured that that would break several laws. Dean decided that it was sort of a lost cause and apparated to his own abode. He knew that Draco would come around. What other choice did he have?

Several months passed, not that Dean had paid much attention. He walked through the motions of his life as he always did. His façade was strongly intact.

Painting with Luna was always interesting. Luna was the one person that he let truly see him, for all that he was; broken, mistreated, misunderstood, angry.

She never judged him because, she too had suffered. Luna just had a way of always finding the good in every situation, even when all other people would only see the darkness.

A purple formation of dots currently rested on Luna's canvas. Loops and swirls connected the dots. Dean had learned to stop asking what exactly Luna was painting a long time ago. Sometimes she accomplished a piece so complex that everyone in the art world would have paid galleons to own the piece. On other occasions, Dean just scratched his head and sighed 'That's Luna for ya'.

"Thanks for the tea, Luna."

"I made it myself. Neville gave me some herbs from his garden. The chamomile and mint were lovely!"

"You still talk to Neville?"

"Yes, every now and again." Her sweet whisper of a voice made Dean want to wrap his arms around her.

"That's good. I swear I only talk to 4 people from Hogwarts since the Battle. I always wonder how everyone is, but then again, I don't care that much because I'm sure they don't really care about me."

"Dean, you really shouldn't have that outlook on life." Luna always knew what to say. She was right. It was time for Dean to release some of that pent up anger that he held inside, but each time he tried, someone always found a way to take advantage of his vulnerability and then the wall that blocked his emotions became thicker.

"Oh, Dean! By any chance did you get to read the prophet this morning?" Luna said, effectively getting his mind off of his past pain and regrets.

"I rarely read that rubbish."

"The cover story. It's about Draco." Dean raised an inquisitive brow. Luna stood from her stool and picked up the magical newspaper from her unique coffee table. There on the front cover were flames tearing apart an old house. Draco stood with his back to the camera. Dean gasped. He gripped the paper in his hands and began to read the article word for word. The details were completely awful.

"I can't believe someone would do this ! Sure, some people don't think he got what he deserved, but this is just terrible! Someone burned his home to the ground!"

"That's not the worst part."

"This is bullshit! Those aurors aren't gonna do anything to help him!" Luna gave Dean a questioning look. Maybe it was because he was normally not this worked up about anything. He normally just kept a cool, nonchalant attitude about himself. He understood why Luna seemed to doubt his sanity, but wrong is wrong. No one deserves to have everything taken from them.

"Maybe Harry will be able to help him?"

"You really think so? Harry'll only do what looks best for his image. If he were to help a Malfoy, he'd be done for, besides with Ron and Ginny always in his ear, he wouldn't be able to help him even if he wanted to."

"Why is everything so unfair?" Luna said in her characteristically monotone.

"I dunno, Luna. And it really sucks."

Dean waved goodbye to Luna later on that evening. He inhaled the autumn air and decided to walk to his small house, around 15 miles before you reached the Burrow. He only lived 20 minutes away from Luna via foot. He wanted to clear his head and just be empty. Emotions were a burden. All they did was fuck things up and damn was he fucked enough. He kept walking, the air enveloping him in a way that was immensely comforting. He enjoyed being alone, in his own head, his own space. He could do whatever he pleased and no one could judge him…or hurt him for being who he was.

As he approached the gate to his home, he felt something was different. Someone was close. He withdrew his wand and walked to the back of his house.

His eyes widened when he saw a figure in all black huddled on his back porch.

"I looked you up in the ministry registry. I hope you're not angry." He whispered. Dean stayed completely silent as he watched Draco. His eyes never left his lap as he spoke. Watching Draco so out of character made Dean slightly uncomfortable. He took a step back from the man to lean against the beam of his back porch.

"No, I'm not angry. Do you want to come inside?" Draco let out a sigh and Dean was almost certain he heard a sniffle, but Draco quickly covered the sound with a cough into his elbow.

"Thank you, but I'm only going to stay for a few minutes, I have to see about some business concerning my property." Draco pushed himself up and waited by the side of the door as Dean opened it.

"Please excuse the mess. I'm really into my art that sometimes I forget how messy it gets. You can take a seat anywhere there's space. Can I get you anything? Tea? Water?"

"Tea, please and thank you." Dean busied himself making tea the muggle way. He figured Draco would open up to him more if he wasn't directly in his face.

"I'm pretty sure you're aware of what's happened lately."

"If you're referring to your house being torched, them yes, I am aware." There was a long silence. Neither man spoke a word. The only sounds that were heard happened to be the water boiling, a clock ticking, and the soft hum of the muggle refrigerator in the kitchen. Then a tiny sob penetrated the silence so abruptly, that Dean didn't actually think he heard it. He whipped around and stared at Draco Malfoy. The blonde's head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. The tips of his ears were red. Dean reached for some tissues and brought them to the table in front of the distraught man.

"I'm usually not like this. I feel helpless. I feel so stupid! I feel like I've been screwed in the ass by life! See! I normally would never say anything like that!"

"Draco-"

"I don't know what to do…" He whispered in a barely audible tone. Dean's posture changed. He took a seat directly in front of the man in his kitchen.

"Dean, I've never said this to anyone and this is really hard for me." Draco looked up into the eyes of Dean Thomas.

"I need your help."

**Please review! Hope you liked it! Will update shortly.**


	2. Chapter 2

Living with Draco was both interesting and frightening. Throughout the course of one day, Dean could go through every emotion known to man while dealing with the likes of Draco Malfoy.

"I plan to be employed within the next week."

"Seriously, you don't have to keep track of everything you use or eat. I've got it covered."

"I'm not charity, Thomas. I'm going to pay you back and that's final." Little incidents like this added excitement to Dean's day. It was always entertaining thinking about what Draco was possibly going to say next.

Then there were the times after Dean had settled in for the night that he heard the sniffles and the occasional sob coming from down the hallway. It took everything he had to stay put in his bed. He knew that if he confronted Draco about his late night cries, he'd deny it, then leave for some unexplainable reason or other. So each night Dean just buried himself deeper into his blankets and tried to drown out the sounds of Draco's cries.

Dean had to admit that it felt nice to have someone at home when he got there. He still loved his privacy and he wouldn't have offered to let anyone else besides Luna and Seamus ever stay with him for any purpose.

Draco had become so frustrated. No one would hire him. It was pure discrimination if you asked Dean. On paper his grades from Hogwarts were almost flawless; everyone was so stuck up on the fact that he was a Malfoy. It was truly taking a toll on him. Even old Slytherin acquaintances turned their backs on the young Malfoy. So much for their so called loyalty.

"…Well, you could work for me." Dean uttered after Draco had finished venting about his status of unemployment.

"Absolutely not! I can't believe you suggested that!"

"Well, why not?"

"One: The purpose of me getting a job is so that I could pay you back. If I work for you, you'd just be paying me money that I would give right back over to you. Two: What kind of job do you have to offer? You're a bloody artist! What could I possibly help you with?" Dean's eyebrows furrowed. He walked right into that one.

"I need an apprentice…."

"I'm horrible at art and such. Thanks for the offer, but I'm going to do this on my own." Draco stalked off to his room and left Dean alone. The conversation had never been brought back up, but each day Malfoy would head out into the world only to come back with a sneer and an almost murderous look in his eyes.

Finally all of the frustration got to him. It had been two whole months since he began living with Dean and he was not employed.

"This is so fucking unfair! I've looked for work everywhere in the wizarding U.K and nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing!"

"Draco, please let-"

"I've had it! I can't do this anymore! I've overstayed my welcome. I might as well just pack my things and join Pansy and Blaise in Italy."

"You can't do that!" Dean shouted, catching the two of them off guard. Draco cocked his head to the side, challenging Dean for an explanation.

"And why pray tell can't I?"

"…Because, that means that _they_ won." Dean offered as an excuse to his outburst. If he was being completely honest with himself, he would have been able to acknowledge the fact that he had grown feelings for the blonde man that was standing only a few feet in front of him. But that was neither here nor there. There were much more pressing issues that had to be dealt with first, his feelings didn't matter-they never matter. Dean's feelings could be ignored. He had to help Draco through this complicated time in his life.

"Thomas, that's not the point now. I can't take it anymore…maybe I should get away for a little bit. Let things die down a bit. No one cares about me here. The fucking ministry closed the arson case on my house, claiming there was no evidence. Now is as good as a time as any for me to start over."

"Please. Just stay for a bit longer. I'm sure things will sort themselves out and you can go back to being the Draco Malfoy that everyone remembers."

"Why? Why should I stay?"

"Well…I really enjoy your company. You see, I have a great deal of trouble trusting people. Everyone puts up this façade like they're the most genuine people in the world, but then when shit gets real and you really need them, they fucking desert you, and it's every man for himself. With you, it's like, I can see you-all of you. You're not pretending to be anyone other than who you are. You're genuine."

"…That's quite honest of you…well…I really don't know what to say to you." The pair of them stared at each other for several moments. Deep inside, Dean knew that he blew it. He probably freaked Draco out in some creepy stalkerish way, which was not his intention at all. Dean was brought out of his self loathing by the sound of Draco clearing his throat.

"Thomas…I'll stay for exactly 1 month tops. If nothing has changed by then, I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"I promise you won't regret this!" Dean tried his hardest not to run up and hug Draco. He composed himself before he got to that point. And just like that they fell back into their routine as if nothing major had just happened.

"So is steak and potatoes good with you? Angelina gave me a new recipe."

"You trade recipes with housewives?" Draco raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Well…one housewife. I mean Angelina can really cook. She did marry a Weasley." The kitchen was filled with laughter that was uncharacteristic for the pair of them, but if you asked, they would have both said it's been ages since either of them even chuckled.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been three weeks since Draco had resolved that he would stay with Dean. Draco had to admit that he felt no judgment from the taller wizard, which was nice for a change. Even though Dean knew about the horrible things that he had done during the war for Voldemort, Dean didn't look down upon him. He held a fond appreciation for the man that had taken him in when no one else would.

Draco began to notice that Dean was less sociable this week. As soon as he came home, he would stomp up the stairs and lock himself in his room, without a word to Draco. When he would emerge from the room in the mornings, there were bags under his eyes and his clothes looked rumpled. Draco was sure he hadn't been sleeping at all. Dean would mumble to himself when he did make rare appearances from his room, and frankly it was really starting to worry Draco greatly. It was unsettling to see Dean so utterly out of it. His movements were robotic, just motions that he was familiar practicing.

After watching Dean go through his life in a nearly zombie-like state for 5 days, Dean completely shut down. He didn't get out of bed on the morning of the 6th day. Draco knew it wasn't his place, but he was generally concerned about his 'friend'. He slowly approached the door that led to Dean's bedroom. He pressed his ear against the door and listened for any sound that would alert him that Dean was in fact alive.

He heard soft sniffles; his hand resting tentatively on the doorknob. The sniffles then escalated to full on, gut wrenching sobs. Draco was glued to the spot he was in. He never had any experience comforting people and he knew he never said the right thing. He would only end up pissing Dean off and then getting himself kicked out of his temporary place of dwelling.

Draco turned on his heel and headed toward the guest bedroom that he was occupying, when a loud crash emanated from inside of Dean's room. Draco rushed back and flung the door open.

He found Dean on the floor next to a broken lamp and a shattered mirror; his hands were a bloody mess. The tears were pouring out of his eyes.

Draco finally understood that he wasn't the only one that had been hurt in the past. Dean was struggling with something that he had obviously been holding onto for years. Draco rushed forward and tried to pull Dean away from the numerous shards of broken glass.

"Get away from me!" Dean hissed through his tears.

"Dean, you're hu-"

"I said GET THE FUCK OUT!" Dean didn't want Draco to see him like this. He was the one that was supposed to help Draco fight his demons; it wasn't supposed to be the other way around! Draco silently backed out of the room. He slumped down right outside of Dean's door, his head pounding. He listened to the noises from inside, praying that Dean wasn't doing anything self destructive.

Draco was outside of the door for less than ten minutes when he heard a series of loud expletives being screamed. Dean's abused throats cried loudly as he cursed, what Draco assumed, were Dean's family members.

Draco ignored Dean's previous request and busted through the door.

Dean's bloody hands were rubbing furiously at his face. Draco approached Dean slowly, as if he were a skittish, frightened animal. He crawled next to Dean slowly and pulled Dean's hands into his lap. Dean struggled to free himself from Draco's grip. The struggle didn't last for long. Dean stared deep into Draco's eyes and then he just collapsed into Draco's shoulder, his body rumbling with the force of his sobs.

Draco didn't care that his shirt was now smeared with Dean's blood or that his hands were now just as bloody as Dean's had been. He pulled the sheet that they were on and wrapped Dean's hands. Dean continued to sob into Draco's shoulder.

Draco knew he wasn't one to offer comfort. He often thought that tears were a sign of weakness and that they were useless. But somehow, as if it were second nature, Draco wrapped his free hand around Dean's waist, rubbing small circles into his back.

Draco had only one thought running through his mind:

What on earth had made Dean like this?

Then another thought came to his mind:

Draco wanted to help heal him. They needed to heal each other.


End file.
